The blog of the Darksome Schooner

Month: November 2011

It is one of the cruel realities of this world that I do not have access to the finest abacuses of ancient Persia.

The beautiful counting frames of the Achaemenids, once installed in plush palaces o’erlooking the sun-drenched gardens of Pasargadae and Persepolis, are lost to time and beyond my grasp. It pains me to admit that I shall ne’er sit astride an ancient abacus of Susa, gem of the Zagros Mountains, tallying up catch reports from dusty fishers on the Tigris.

Had I access to such primitive but meticulous counting machines – were I free to slide their ruby beads along cylindrical tracks into handy conglomerations – then I might be able to keep a count of the number of times I have been asked to explain the meaning behind the Fisherian coat-of-arms.

A few years ago I found myself engaged in conversation with a mid-level film producer whilst waiting for a train. As we stood on the platform, he enquired, possibly simply out of politeness, whether I had any good ideas for films (though the fact he waited so long to broach such an obvious topic would seem to indicate genuine interest spurred by some element in our conversation prior to that point which had enabled him to identify me as a formidable creative force.)